Chapter 35
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
“ C reslyn…your hair.” Caelian stared in shock, glancing down at her own silver locks, then looking back at her twin. “What happened?”
Creslyn sighed, folding her hands in her lap. It was a long story, and a difficult one, and she debated how much of it to tell. She was seated on a sofa with Drake to her right and Caelian to her left. Kjeld stood just behind her twin, his arms folded across his wide chest, his shoulder propped against the wall, included in the conversation yet distant at the same time. Were it only Caelian in the room with her, she would likely disclose everything, but as she glanced around the sitting room with nearly her entire family in attendance, words seemed to fail her.
Ariesian was across from her in one of the high-back leather chairs, his legs kicked out with one ankle crossed over the other, his fingers strumming a careless rhythm against the smooth fabric. Asher occupied the matching chair and Novalise was perched on his knee, her teeth worrying her bottom lip. Sarelle and Narissa sat on a plush velvet settee and Solarius lounged against its curving wooden arm, his silver gaze glancing cautiously out the arching windows where the Moonfall Peaks stood in the distance.
“I think her hair looks lovely.” Solarius pushed off the edge of the settee, tucking his hands behind his back. He strode toward the window, looking back at Creslyn from over his shoulder. “But I find myself much more fascinated by the fact that she has a dragon .”
“Astrylys.” Creslyn nodded in confirmation. “She and Svartos will be staying with us. Along with General Holtstrom’s dragon, Odryss.”
Considering the dragons couldn’t very well traipse through the gardens of House Celestine, Drake had suggested they work on building them a lair of their own within the Moonfall Peaks. Apparently, Astrylys would be in need of a den, and quite possibly a nest, as Drake believed the female dragon was pregnant and would require a well-protected place to guard her eggs. And as it would happen, Svartos was Astrylys’s mate.
Fitting, all things considered, and Creslyn found herself absolutely giddy at the prospect of baby dragons.
She hoped they all had blue eyes like their mother.
“Staying?” Caelian bounced in her seat and clutched Creslyn’s hand. “You’re staying here? In Aeramere? Permanently?”
Warmth spread through the bond, a comforting reminder of Drake’s approval.
“Yes.” Creslyn met her twin’s hopeful gaze with a smile. “Permanently.”
“And what of Brackroth’s crown?” Ariesian asked. He rested one elbow on the arm of the leather chair, running his thumb along the pad of his fingers as he studied Drake. “Should the heir not reside in his own realm?”
“I suppose that would be appropriate,” Drake mused, angling his head to meet her brother’s intimidating gaze. “If I were the heir.”
Ariesian’s hand coiled into a fist. “You are not?”
“It’s an amusing story, actually,” Creslyn interjected, trying to diffuse the growing tension between the two males. “As it would happen, Drake is not a prince.”
She lifted her chin.
“He’s a god.”
Her announcement was met with a few gasps and some choice words from both her brothers and Asher. Only Kjeld looked no less surprised by the proclamation. Caelian lurched back, letting go of her hand, gaping in shock.
“A…god,” Sarelle repeated, wringing her stardust-coated hands in her lap, smearing the glitter on her gown. “As in, an actual god?”
Creslyn peered over at her husband, and a rush of pride left her beaming. She laced their fingers together, enjoying the way the softness of her skin fit easily into his callused palm. “Cian, god of shadow and prophecy, to be exact.”
Solarius laughed, then shook his head, raking a hand through his silver, black-tipped hair. “Well, that certainly explains a lot.”
Ariesian, on the other hand, looked more displeased than ever. His brow was knitted in concern, deepening his scowl. “What says the King of Brackroth about this sudden revelation?”
“Nothing.” Drake squeezed Creslyn’s hand, steadying her confidence. They both knew where this conversation would lead. “King Marius is dead. Slain in his own throne room.”
Ariesian jolted upright. “By whom?”
Creslyn swallowed hard, her stomach tangled in knots of dread. This was her moment, when her family would realize the truth of her nature, when they would see what she had become. She could only hope they would not scorn her for her actions, but instead grant her the peace of understanding.
On a shallow breath, she met Ariesian’s unnerving stare and said, “Me.”
The answering silence frayed her nerves. She counted each breath, each heartbeat, waiting for someone, anyone, to speak. As the agonizing seconds bled by, Solarius cleared his throat.
He roughed a hand over his face, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Well done, sister.”
“Oh, Cres.” Novalise’s face softened, her pretty features etched in faint lines of sympathy. “Are you well?”
“As well as I can be, given the circumstances.” She did not yet know if what she’d done would haunt her, if she would wake from nightmares drenched in a cold sweat, or if she would lock them away in the darkest part of her heart and forget them. Either way, there was only one path going forward for House Celestine, for all of Aeramere, and it would not be so easily won. “The stars never lie, Nova. War is on the horizon and we must prepare. Our house has already come under attack once, and it is our duty to protect it. We must be ready for the bloodshed that will inevitably follow.”
“Wise words, my lady.” This from Asher, who was gently rubbing Novalise’s back. “A bit grisly, but wise.”
Ariesian leaned forward in his seat, his elbows resting upon his knees, fingers steepled together. “So, the throne of Brackroth sits empty?”
“For now.” Drake did not seem at all concerned by this notion, despite Ariesian’s growing temper. “I have no doubt someone will lay claim to it eventually.”
“And if they pose a threat to us?” Ariesian demanded, gesturing wildly in Creslyn’s direction. “If they seek retribution against my sister for the death of their king?”
“Then we will do whatever is necessary to end that possibility before it begins.” Drake’s response was glacial. A frozen promise, never a threat. “No harm will come to Creslyn. Ever.”
Solarius strode across the room, shoving one hand into his pocket while he clamped the other on Ariesian’s taut shoulder. “You worry too much, brother.”
Ariesian spared him a withering glance and muttered, “At least one of us does.”
“Solarius is right.” Asher nodded in Drake’s direction, wrapping an arm around Novalise’s waist. “Brackroth’s future king or queen is of little concern at the moment. There are far more crucial matters at stake, many of which require our immediate attention.”
Ariesian sighed, dropping his head into his hands. Stress seemed to seep from his very bones, the heaviness of it caused his shoulders to sag. He wore his responsibility to his family like a crown of granite, its burden a constant weight. For so long, he had been the one to protect them, to look after their wellbeing, to keep them in line. It was a role he was forced into after the untimely death of their father, and though he’d never outright complained, Creslyn always wondered if maybe Ariesian wished his life had been one of his choosing and not one of obligation. She knew he never wanted his siblings, especially his sisters, involved in any kind of court unrest. Yet now it seemed unavoidable, and it was a struggle, a kind of inner turmoil Ariesian had not quite overcome.
“Indeed,” Novalise murmured, toying with the delicate lace of her violet gown. “Granted, there have been no more attacks since you left, but the rumors of rebellion and uprisings continue to circulate.”
“Mistrust grows easily.” Ariesian sat back, his head falling against the stiff cushion of the chair. He yanked on the collar of his shirt, loosening it. “Doubt lingers.”
“In some more than others,” Solarius added, pretending to adjust the rolled cuffs of his sleeves.
Creslyn did not miss the look that passed between her two brothers. It reeked of animosity and resentment.
“The gift of prophecy has afforded me an advantage.” Drake shifted, straightening to address the room in its entirety. “Unfortunately, there is only so much I can see, so much I can say. While I am able to confirm Lady Novalise’s star reading regarding the alignment of the constellations and what it means for the future of Aeramere, I cannot discern who is at fault. Prince Aspen…or Queen Elowyn.”
“The queen?” Caelian’s eyes flashed with disbelief. “You think the queen is behind the rumors surrounding her own ousting?”
Drake lifted one shoulder, dismissive. “It remains to be seen.”
“Absurd.” She waved one hand through the air. “Positively outrageous. Prince Aspen must be at fault. Everyone knows he is wretched and cruel. A most wicked prince if there ever was one. All of Aeramere is aware of his foul reputation, as well as his desire to claim the crown for himself.”
Sarelle bristled, smoothing the pleats of her gown that were now covered in stardust. “He isn’t entirely horrible.”
“You’re only saying that because he saved your life,” Caelian shot back. She gesticulated as she spoke, a dramatic waving of her hands. “What if his actions were nothing more than a front, a trap, to win you over? Especially with Mother attempting to arrange your betrothal to him.”
Sarelle ducked her head, her cheeks flushing pink as she wrung her fingers together, further wrinkling her skirts.
“Speaking of our mother,” Creslyn interrupted, not wanting her sisters to tumble into a full-blown spat. “Where is she?”
“She remains at court with the queen.” Ariesian tilted his head, brushing his knuckles along his jaw, his curious gaze drifting to her. “Though I am surprised she is not here to welcome you home. I assume she would have been sent word when you requested passage through the Veil.”
“About that…” Creslyn winced.
Oh, this was not going to go over well.
“Passage was not requested.” Drake’s mild voice did little to soothe her anxiety. “As it was not required.”
Ariesian stilled, his expression vacant. “What?”
“The Veil is only a glamour, Aries.” Creslyn used his nickname in the hopes that it might make the news she was about to share slightly less shocking. “We flew through it quite easily when we left Aeramere and did the same upon our return.”
“ What ?” Novalise cried, her starlit eyes widening in horror.
“Fucking stars.” Solarius dropped onto the arm of the settee by Narissa, muttering to himself as he loosed a stream of offensive swears.
Narissa, who had been oddly silent since Creslyn’s arrival, finally spoke. Her voice was melodic, her demeanor as calm as the waves that kissed the shoreline of House Azurvend. “You are saying our realm, our homes, are protected by nothing more than a simple glamour?”
“The word protected is a bit of a stretch, my lady.” Drake leaned back against the sofa, the cushion groaning beneath his weight. He draped one arm around Creslyn’s shoulders. “More like hidden away from mortal eyes. It is unlikely any humans, witches, or even vampires could move through it at will, but a fae of any kind, most especially ones of great power, could certainly do so.”
Narissa’s golden, rosy pallor faded.
Solarius quit fiddling with his rolled sleeves and glanced down at Narissa, whose complexion continued to wane. His hand flinched, but he offered her no comfort.
“Whether the Veil is a glamour or not is of no consequence.” Ariesian’s gaze lingered on a streak of sunlight pouring in from the windows, its haze catching the toes of his boots. “Not when the perceived threat is coming from within our own borders.”
“So, what do we do?” Novalise asked, her voice pitched with anxiety.
Asher collected her in his arms, stroking her hair in calm, slow movements to lessen her panic.
“We shall continue on as though nothing is amiss.” Ariesian commanded the room with an air of authority. “On the outside, we will maintain appearances. Host balls, attend parties?—”
“Marry off siblings,” Solarius grumbled.
Ariesian cut him with a look of scorn. “Do our duty to our house. But on the inside, where prying eyes cannot see, we will train with our magic. Each Starstorm will learn to wield a weapon of their choosing. I will form alliances as needed, just as I’ve done with the former Prince of Brackroth and now Lord Reif Marintide, to ensure House Azurvend stands with us when the need arises.”
Sarelle clasped her hands together, her deep blue eyes alight with excitement. “I’ve always wanted to use a bow and arrow.”
Ariesian pointed one finger in her direction. “Not you.”
“But Aries,” Novalise rose from Asher’s lap. “That is unfair. Why not Sarelle? You just said?—”
“I know what I said.” He lifted one hand, giving her pause. Then he looked at Sarelle with purpose. “If you want to learn how to use a bow and arrow, then you will need to convince Prince Aspen to teach you.”
Sarelle blinked in confusion. “Whatever for?”
“Because, darling sister, since our mother and the queen have deemed you an appropriate match for the prince, then I am going to use their intentions to our advantage.” Ariesian settled back into his seat, and the pieces of the puzzle he laid out gradually fell into place.
“You intend to have Sarelle spy on the prince?” Solarius stared at their eldest brother, bewildered. He stood, paced the length of the room, then circled back, shaking his head, anger simmering with every step. “No. It’s too dangerous, Ariesian. If she is found out, the punishment will be death. I won’t stand for it.”
Ariesian arched a brow, a look of bemusement settling over his previously stern features. “You won’t be found out, will you, Sarelle?”
“Ariesian, I agree with Solarius.” Creslyn chewed her bottom lip. Preparing for war was necessary, true, but sending their sister directly into harm’s way was a terrible risk. “I don’t think we should ask this of her.”
“I will manage just fine.” Sarelle’s lips were set in a hard line, but her eyes gave her away. They reflected worry, doubt, fear of the unknown. “If my siblings can make sacrifices for our family, then so can I.”
“But Sarelle,” Novalise pleaded, kneeling before her. “Prince Aspen is?—”
“I said I will manage.” Sarelle’s voice was frosty. She remained steadfast in her decision, despite the treacherous task set before her. “If Ariesian wishes me to play this part, then I shall.”
“Fear not, dear sister. You must only gain his favor, learn what you can of his plans, and convince him you’re his perfect match.” Ariesian stood from his chair and moved toward Sarelle, covering her hand with his own. “If by chance he proposes, you will accept. And I swear it now on our father’s grave, I will not allow any such marriage to take place.”
He offered her a small, rare smile. “Just don’t fall in love with him and you’ll be fine.”
Sarelle looked as though she might be ill. Her skin turned a sickly green shade, and she swayed in her seat. Narissa reached out, gathering her into her arms to steady her.
Creslyn blew out a low breath, hating that her sister was so distraught, that she would be put in such a predicament as to act as though she truly sought the Prince of Aeramere’s affections.
“And…” Creslyn swallowed, a lump forming in the back of her throat. “And what of Tovian and Nyxian?”
“They should return to Aeramere before winter’s first breath.” Ariesian released Sarelle’s hand, his gaze trekking to the window, where the Moonfall Peaks formed a barrier, where the sea would carry them home. “Just in time for Solarius and Narissa’s wedding.”
Stallions neighed in the distance, announcing the arrival of a coach.
Solarius stepped back, his voice dropping an octave. “Mother’s home.”
“Disperse at once,” Ariesian ordered, rolling his shoulders back. He straightened his shirt, smoothed his sleek silver hair so it fell to one side. “No one mention a word of our discussion here to her.”
As though he sensed some form of objection, Ariesian lifted a finger, placing it near his mouth. “Not. One. Word. I love our mother, but her willingness to pair Sarelle with Prince Aspen is an avaricious reach for power that I will not tolerate.”
He met the gaze of each soul in the room, ensuring his orders were to be followed. “As of now, she is not to be trusted.”
Everyone nodded, and one by one, they left the sitting room as they went in search of other pursuits, the secrets they shared fading in their absence.
Creslyn looped her arm through Drake’s as they strolled toward the courtyard. She stole a glance up at him, daring to ask the question she feared an answer to the most. “Do you think my family is afraid of me?”
“Not at all, kearsta .” He bent low, pressing a kiss to her temple. “I think they are most impressed by you.”
She certainly hoped so. While she was grateful they had some semblance of a plan moving forward, she knew one obstacle remained in her way. Overcoming it would not be for the faint of heart, and the task alone fell to her, for none of her siblings could be the one to free Drake of his curse.
If she wanted her god of a husband to truly be hers and belong to no other, then there was only one thing left to do.
Creslyn must destroy the Shadowblade.